Haunted Attraction
by LillithWhittmore
Summary: More and more people are reporting break and enters throughout Haven. Not so strange...other than the victims are reporting the culprits as people who are dead. Surrounds Duke more than other characters and is set after "Lockdown". No characters other than Phillipa belong to me.
1. Chapter 1

Work in progress, additions will hopefully be added once a week.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Samantha J. Riley felt herself being drawn away from the homely kitchen she once called her own. Her fiance stood at the kitchen sink peeling potatoes, his eyes lifting from his task to stare out the large windows that looked out across the spacious back yard. A large apple tree was framed by the windows and she knew what he was thinking every time he looked at it. A glittery gold plaque with her name engraved upon was screwed into the thick gnarled trunk, along with the date of her birth and the day she'd died.

Yes, she was dead and haunting her fiance. It was cliché and tragic and shouldn't have been possible, but here she was sitting perched upon the cesar stone bench top of the kitchen she'd shared with Brandon. Watching him cook for himself, pining for him and wishing he could see or hear her.

While she watched him, her fingers curling against the edge of the bench she quelled the urge to reach out and touch him. She felt another tug upon what she could only describe as her ethereal being. Turning her head she looked towards the front door. Everything in her screamed to walk towards the door and open it, then walk through and down the front steps. Why she suddenly had this urge was beyond her, but it was there none the less and it was growing stronger.

Shaking her head she turned her attention back to Brandon. He had just finished peeling the potatoes and was filling a stainless steel pot with water before dumping the freshly peeled potatoes into them. The sleeves of his beige sweater were rolled up to reveal the light dusting of hair along his muscular arms, the tanned flesh flexing as he dried his hands after depositing the pot onto the stove. He paused in the act of drying his hands, his gaze wondering out the window once more to stare at the apple tree. His jaw tensed and his hands gripped the edge of the sink as he leaned forward, hanging his head between his wide set shoulders.

The pain he was feeling farely radiated off him in waves. She'd watched him go through the motions after her death, watched him plan her funeral, pack up her desk at work, even watched as he'd spent the last three weeks drowning himself in whiskey and late night TV. The grief stricken man that stood in front of her wasn't the Brandon she'd fallen in love with and all she wanted to do was reach out and comfort him. Her fingers uncurled from the bench top and moved towards his arm, being drawn like a magnet. She was seconds away from trying to touch him when she felt the ungodly pull once more.

Frustrated with her inability to help Brandon, to connect with him, and with whatever was 'tugging' at her Samantha shoved off the bench and stormed to the front door. Instead of reaching for the doorknob she just kept walking, right on through the heavy oak door, popping out on the other side like the door had never been there.

The nearly deserted street outside was defused in an overcast light as the gray clouds slowly blanketed the blue sky as the sun played hide and go seek. It was a week day and with all the strange happiness that had been going on in Haven over the last few months most people were keeping to themselves, inside the relative safety of their homes.

The pull grew stronger as she took the front steps to the front lawn. Turning in a circle she tried to find the source of the yanking that was starting to put her off kilter. Being a Ghost she'd never had to worry about...anything. Not eating, sleeping or the restrictions of time and space. If she wanted to be somewhere she thought of that place and poof she was there. Although the only place she really wanted to be was with Brandon. Right now she wanted to figure out what was happening to her. Sensation was something she rarely came by these days.

Charging across the lawn she walked out into the middle of the street circling around and around her eyes taking in every detail from the houses along the street. She was about to scream in frustration as she saw nothing out of the ordinary when the tugging within her suddenly yanked her back a few feet.

"What the hell!" she cried out.

Turning in the direction of where she'd been yanked Samantha balled her fists at her side. There was nothing but a few parked cars on the side of the road. The more she looked the less she saw and it was starting to get her angrier then she'd been in a long time. Walking down the street she made a point of looking in all the cars she passed as if she was going to find something in them that was causing the strange sensation inside of her.

Nothing. By the time she had reached the end of the street the clouds had taken up residence in the sky and the sun had been completely devoured leaving streets gloomy and shadowed. She tried to slam her hand down upon the last car parked at the end of the street. Unfortunately her condition, that of being dead and all, caused her hand to go straight through the metal hood. The momentum sent her sprawling to the curb.

She'd barely stopped moving when the tugging began once more, this time more urgent, more forceful. It didn't stop with just dragging her a few feet this time, her ethereal body continued down the pavement, her hands trying to scrabble and grab whatever she could but unfortunately her hands floated through everything she came in contact with. Her legs scissored out behind her as she was yanked around the corner and into the middle of the road. She tumbled a little before coming to a stop, flat on her stomach. Pressing her hands into the asphalt she tried to push herself up.

Twin beams of bright light flashed across her, bringing her head up.

A car barrelled towards her, moving right into her path.

Bringing her hands up to shield her face Samantha screamed, knowing in the back of her mind that the car wouldn't do her any damage, but terror filled her anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Two people stood in front of Phillipa Hendrickson at Rosemary's bakery. She waited to decide which assortment of pastries she was going to box up and take back to the book store. Morning sunlight flooded the interior of the small space giving it a soft, warm glow. The cash register, one as old as her grandmother, clacked and jingled with coins before being slammed shut, the people in front of her coming down to one as the head customer left the store with a jingle of the bell above the door.

Folding her sweater over her left arm Phillipa, or Pipa to her family and friends, opened her hand bag and ruffled around for her purse. Another tinkle of the bell above the door announced the arrival of a new customer as Pipa yanked out the merlot coloured leather purse she'd bought only the day before. Slipping the strap of her handbag back over her shoulder she tucked a stray curl of hair behind her ear, tapping her foot as she waited for the last customer in front of her to finish their purchase.

"Miss Pipa, how lovely to see you this fine morning." Turning slightly she looked behind her to find the one person she was not in the mood for this early in the morning.

"Morning Duke." She said in response before facing the counter once more.

"What a sunny disposition you have. And how is your morning so far?" He asked, completely missing the fact that Pipa was trying to ignore him. Or he was ignoring the fact that he was being ignored.

"It's too early in the morning for me to be bright and peppy, especially when I haven't had a sugar fix yet." She answered.

The man in front of her pocketed the change he'd been given, took the bright pink box of goodies he'd purchased and walked out the front door giving her a free pass to start choosing her selection. The cashier smiled and grabbed a pair of silicon tipped tongs as Pipa walked over to the curved glass cabinet and pointed to a bear claw that looked incredibly delicious. Funny how the utensils were more sophisticated than the register itself.

"As tasty as Rosemary's sugary treats are, perhaps I could tempt you with some waffles at The Gull?" Duke said as she nibbled on her lower lip trying to decide what else to put in her little pink box besides bear claws. He leaned against the counter beside her, crossing his arms over his chest as she watched her. His hair, midnight black, was as dishevelled as if he'd just climbed out of bed, which was probably correct. With his rumpled shirt, beaded bracelets and necklaces and the whole hippie chin fuzz he looked like he'd just stepped off Venice beach, a healthy tan softening his angled features. She wasn't sure if he purposefully made himself look so approachable or it just happened naturally because he didn't care. It was probably a little of both.

"You and your waffles, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were addicted to them." She answered pointing out two apple turnovers, an assortment of freshly made doughnuts and another bear claw to the cashier. Opening her wallet she checked to make sure she had the cash as there was no way a store with a register that should have belonged in a museum took plastic.

"It's all about the syrup my dear. And you take me for a dark syrup kind of girl." He said a grin morphing his face into what she assumed he'd have looked like as a child. She nearly grinned back at him, kicking herself for the weakness.

She'd been living in Haven for a little under six months and she was already one hundred percent sure that giving Duke Crocker a wide birth was the smartest decision she could make. It wasn't just the rumours about his shady business dealings, or the fact that he owned a bar/restaurant. It was more to do with the fact that her attraction to him had been instantaneous and stronger than she would have liked. Given half the chance she'd become another one of his, if to be believed, many conquest and that was not something she needed in her life, not now nor ever.

The young female cashier slid the pink box across the counter and smiled at her, Pipa returned the smile and handed over the twenty she'd pulled from her wallet, "I'll take a rain check on those waffles Duke." Tucking her wallet back into her handbag she draped her sweater over the pink box and picked it up.

"One day Pipa, you'll taste my waffles." Duke said.

Unable to help herself Pipa laughed at the horrible innuendo as she exited Rosemary's and walked out into the slightly chilling September air. Pulling her oversized sunglasses from the perch atop her head she slid them over her eyes to keep the glare of the sun from making her squint.

Haven was a quaint little town that looked like it had just stepped out of the pages of a history book. To outsiders it looked like a picture book harbour town but to the people who lived and worked in Haven it was so much more. Given a choice she probably would have never come back, but after the death of her Mother she'd had no family other then her brother, who happened to reside in Haven. Knowing she'd never feel happy or secure anywhere else she'd packed her bags, sold her Mother's house and moved back to Haven, signing a lease for a small shop on the corner of the main street.

It had only been a few months since she'd opened Pages by Pipa, a small bookstore. She'd gained a few regular customers over that time, mostly teens looking for the next Vampire fix, but being so early in the store's life she was only able to keep herself and one other Haven resident in employement. Marilyn was a god send and Pipa didn't know what she would have done without the excentric thirty something year old woman.

It didn't take her long to walk from Rosemary's to Pages and was about to step through the threshold when she felt a hand upon her shoulder.

"Pipa."

Turning she smiled at the pixie blonde cop standing behind her, "Hi Audrey, how can I help you?"

"Have you seen Dwight?" She asked her hands moving to rest upon her hips, the grey blazer she wore opening to reveal the gun she had strapped to her right hip.

"Not since this morning. Why, is there something wrong?" She asked frowning. Her brother was someone who liked to keep to himself, unless he was trying to help clean up a mess that had been created by one of the many afflicted people who resided in Haven. It looked homely on the outside but there some strange unnatural things that happened in Haven, and it was one of the reasons Pipa hadn't wanted to come back.

"Did he mention where he was going? We've been trying to get in contact with him but he isn't answering his phone." Audrey continued, tucking a blonde strand of hair behind her ear as she squinted against the bright sunlight.

"No I'm afraid he didn't. But I can get him to call you when I see him." She answered.

"Thanks that would be great." Audrey said.

"Oh by the way, that book you wanted has been delayed. It might be another few days before I can get it delivered."

"Damn." Audrey swore before her shoulders gave a slight shrug, "Thanks for letting me know. I'll see you later."

Giving her a wave Pipa pushed through the door to her store, the bell jingling above her head as she reached into the back pocket of her jeans. Palming her cell phone she speed dialled Dwights number before pressing the phone to her are as the door closed behind her.

"What's up sis?" His deep baritone crackled along the connection.

"You need to come home, Audrey was looking for you."

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Throwing the pen down on the table littered with paperwork Duke sighed. Leaning back in the booth he scrubbed his hands down his face, mulling over how much he despised doing the books for The Grey Gull. Yes it was his business free and clear but still didn't mean he relished the idea of spending what was turning out to be a bright and sunny day stuck inside reading over checks and balances. Hiring someone else was starting to look like a good idea, if only he trusted someone enough with his money. Which, of course, was never going to happen.

Giving his eyes a rub he shook out his shoulders and picked up the pen determined to have everything done within the next ten minutes. Pulling the calculator back in front of him he was about to start crunching the numbers when he heard a tapping at the doors that lead to the dock seating at the back of the restaurant.

A tall, lanky off beat sort of a guy stood holding a large square crate and an impatient look stretched across his pock marked face. Throwing the pen down with Duke scooted out from the booth seat and sauntered to the doors, unlocking them and yanking them open with more enthusiasm then really necessary.

"Jarrad, finally." Duke smiled wagging his finger at Jarrad. "You had me worried you dirty little dog."

Jarrad snorted rolling his eyes, "I'm here. Where's my money?"

"Now now, I have to see the merchandise first. Make sure it's what I ordered and I'm not being … well you get my drift." Duke answered gesturing for them to sit outside.

Moving in front of him Jarrad dumped the crate onto one of the tables that dotted the Gull's outside area. Reaching into his back pocket he retrieved a long rusted crowbar and set to work prying the slated wood lid of the crate off. Duke stood back his arms crossed over his chest as he watched.

Jarrad grunted before the nails that kept the lid in place gave way and it was pried free. Shoving the crowbar into his pocket once more Jarrad fanned his hand over the opened crate for Duke to inspect.

Peering into the crate Duke smirked, liking what he saw. Clapping his hand onto Jarrad's slight shoulder he reached into the back pocket of the jeans he was wearing. "It's wonderful doing business with you. The price we agreed upon." He said handing the neatly folded stack of bills over to Jarrad's eagerly awaiting hands.

"Cramer says thank you." Jarrad answered referring to the man he worked for. Or what Duke assumed was a man. After Stoney he could never be too sure who he was actually working for or working with. Giving Jarrad one last slap on the back Duke stood over the crate, lifting the lid and placing it back over the contents, Jarrad quickly scampering away like the messenger rat he was.

Hefting the lidded crate into his arms Duke walked back through the quiet interior of his restaurant. He headed for the front doors and the stairs that lead up to the small apartment above the restaurant. It was an empty apartment now that Audrey had moved out and Duke had yet to find someone else to rent the place. He couldn't decide whether it was because he couldn't be bothered getting anyone else in or because he'd liked the idea of having Audrey up there and giving it to someone else just felt wrong because of that.

Taking the stairs two at a time he rested the crate against the door so he could fish out his keys and unlock the door. Looking around he wondered if having the item that was sitting in the box in his position was a good thing or not. It had cost him more then he had hoped, but if it got him to answers it was well worth the expense.


End file.
